Page 63 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

That’s too generous. Sure, he’s mostly been gentlemanly, with the occasional asshole making an appearance, but what single twenty-eight-year-old wants to hang out with a woman and a baby?

“I want to see you and fuck you. I’d do just about anything to make that happen, Bri. So yes, I’m sure. Pick you up early tomorrow?” He asks. “It’s a six-hour drive and traffic will be shit on game day.”

“I know.”

He eyes me curiously.

“I’m from San Francisco, remember?” He said himself he did a thorough background check, so he should already know that. “Besides, I thought you were a Seattle fan...”

His eyes scrunch up.

“Just figured you were since you laid that T-shirt out for me to wear.”

He laughs. “I was trying to get that shit out of my house. Caprice wears it to get under my skin.”

Sounds like something I’d do to piss Jackson off.

Drago leaves, and I take the opportunity to feed Gabe. I’d already planned to go shopping today. This kid goes through diapers like they’re going out of style.

I bought his crib last weekend at a secondhand store. Him sleeping with me was getting old, plus I was paranoid I’d roll over on him after reading a mommy blog.

Luckily, I still had some of the money Jackson deposited into my account, and since there’s still some left, I might as well use it on Gabriel.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When he said he had a luxury suite at the stadium, I hadn’t anticipated so many people being inside, though I shouldn’t be surprised.

I’m not foreign to skyboxes at football games, MMA fights, concerts; the list goes on. My father is a fan of them. When Jackson and I were kids, he used to entertain high-profile clients as often as he could. Robert Andrews loves to wine and dine.

Jackson and I always preferred to be out in the stands. In fact, my brother and his family are probably here now. Jackson’s an even bigger fan than I am.

During football season, he rarely takes business trips so that he doesn’t miss a home game. When he and his youngest daughter Carly are together, no one else can get a word in edgewise when it comes to football—or any sports, really.

Thinking about them makes me miss my family. I don’t get up here often, and I haven’t been to a game in years.

I didn’t tell Jackson or Alana I was coming. They’d expect me to sit with them. They have season tickets at the fifty-yard line and several extra tickets to accommodate any guests they might bring.

“I knew I’d be seeing you again.”

I turn away from the fourth quarter of the game, placing my back against the glass, to find Luca, Drago’s brother, standing in front of me with Mia, his three-year-old daughter sitting on his shoulders. They showed up an hour ago, but she’s had her daddy hand-feeding her every dessert that must be on the catering tables.

I learned when we got here, the suite is actually owned by Drago’s father through the company business and Drago plans at least one game a year where his staff from the docks get to enjoy the game up here. From everything I’ve seen today, the staff really likes Drago.Especially one in particular.I cut my eyes, seeing her talking his ear off now from a table at one end of the room.

Rolling my eyes back to Luca, I say, “Yeah? How so?”

“Family aside, no one gets under his skin. No one riles him up.” His lips tip up. “But you do. And quite easily too.”

I look back over at Drago. Rebecca has her hand resting on his. A pang of jealousy I wasn’t expecting surges through me before I realize it, unable to cover the effect it must show.

“Don’t get hung up on her; that’s been over for years.” I raise an eyebrow at his admission that Drago once had anything at all with her. “Our father and hers always wanted them to marry in order to make our two families one. But it’ll never happen. D only keeps her working for him because it would be a headache to fire her.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that he called Drago by the same thing I’ve started calling him, making me think I’m not as original as I thought. And I’m not certain I like someone else calling him something I thought belonged to me.

Shit, I think. He doesn’t belong to me, let alone a nickname of sorts. I like Drago a lot, but we haven’t been with each other long enough to define what we are. I’m still struggling with us being so personal when I have a job to do where he is concerned.

The roar of the crowd outside gains my attention, making me whip back around at the same time the crowd in here cheers. Looking out of the window, I see the Skytron announce the 49ers as the winners of the game. From where I am, I see the teammates all jumping on each other in victory.

“Well”—Luca begins prompting me to turn back to face him—“it was good seeing you here. Hope I see more of you, detective.” I start to cock my head to the side to inquire what Drago has told him when the noise dies down and I hear Gabe crying.

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